Bitter and Biting
by Kayka
Summary: The girl-who-ate-the peach-and-forgot-everything remembered and left. It has been winter ever since. Sareth. One-shot. Not angsty. Promise.


**Disclaimer:** Blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda, incomprehensible legal speak, and I still don't own Labyrinth. I'm going to go sit in the corner now, cheers.

**A/N:** A little ficlet that goes with my fanart (also the story cover) of the same title. Not really much to say about this one other than I tried writing something that did not rely on being funny for once. It was... interesting.

* * *

The snow drifted down from the clear blue sky, and a particularly large, fat flake landed squarely on Sarah William's forehead.

It was June, and eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit.

This had a _feeling _about it, and nothing good ever came of those, as few and far between as such _feelings_ were. They made her _remember_ things she ought not have known in the first place.

The woman picked at the tatty blanket upon which she reclined and read on, as the snow fell more aggressively refusing to be ignored. Sarah successfully ignored the spectacle until a woosh of bitter cold wrenched her novel from her grasp. Swept away to Narnia, or Neverland, or _Labyrinth_.

There was really no more surefire way to annoy Sarah Williams than to interrupt her reading time. Although, dimensional displacement might prove to be a new top contender on the annoyance scale.

It was no longer eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit, to say the least. She certainly had not dressed for an escapade in a winter wonderland, with her knee-length shorts and ancient, well-loved tee-shirt_._ Sarah swept her blanket over her shoulders and knotted it. The cover was woefully inadequate, but it would shield her from the very worst of the biting wind if she clutched it closed. The only thing in her favor was the fact that she had elected to wear her comfy loafers over more summer appropriate flip-flops.

Sarah stumbled to her feet and surveyed her new landscape.

Or tried to, rather.

Shielding her eyes against the blinding white, she saw a flash of color in the distance. It seemed as likely a place to start as any in the otherwise desolate landscape.

_I can't stay _here_, at any rate. I'll freeze_. "Well, come on, feet."

The thought that she might freeze regardless of whether she tried to find help was left unexamined.

Sarah's breaths came in soft, shallow puffs, the vapor visible to the eye. She counted them to take her mind off her rapidly numbing fingers and long ago numb toes. At one thousand six hundred eighty-two, she reached the clearing where she had seen the break in the monotony of trees and snow.

It was gone.

She paused to consider her options, now that her goal had up and left. She had not been sure that it was a person, but now it seemed obvious that it would have been a person or animal. The idea suddenly struck her that she could very well have walked into a trap.

The fine hair at the nape of her neck prickled. This had nothing to do with the cold and a whole lot to do with the crunch of snow being deliberately trod underfoot. He, for she had little doubt it was most definitely a _certain_ he, stopped just behind her. A trap, indeed.

"Lovely cloak." Was puffed derisively into her ear. Sarah jerked away, having not realized that he wandered quite so close.

The Goblin King stepped past the woman and turned to regard her, the epitome of a master of winter in his fur-lined, white coat. The chill must not have bothered him as he had not bothered to close it, and the cut of his shirt meant she could see more of his chest than was strictly decent. The cane he carried was new, though, he did not actually seem to need it.

"And how are you enjoying today's trespass in my kingdom, Miss Williams?"

He had a crystal, Sarah realized. She did not know how she could have missed the bauble unless he had just called it into existence. It clinked across the metal fingers of his glove until he passed it to his un-mailed left hand. She understood the threat it implied, yet the spectacle was no less mesmerizing than it had been all those years ago. She had to force herself to meet his gaze.

"I'm not trespassing," Sarah declared, as she squared her jaw.

"_Your_ Labyrinth stole _my_ book_. And_ _me_, if you want to get picky about it."

His smile was sharp and less than friendly.

"Unlikely, as we aren't in the Labyrinth proper."

She refused to let him see that she found this news disconcerting and pressed on.

"_What_ever. I magically ended up here for a reason that is probably, somehow, _your _fault, regardless. Now, send me home." And as an afterthought, "Please."

At that, he actually tossed his head and laughed.

"Ever the demanding, exasperating creature, aren't you?"

With all the parallels to their first meeting, she really should have anticipated the crystal flying at her at an alarming velocity. As it was, however, she barely had enough time to bring her arms up to protect her face before she was ensconced in brilliant warmth. It was almost hard to believe that she had ever been cold at all. Without even looking, Sarah knew that she was now garbed in weather appropriate clothing and a much too large coat that still carried the heat and scent of its previous owner. She mumbled a befuddled thanks.

"I don't understand, Goblin King," she admitted, in reference to her new attire and the coat off his back.

"That much is obvious."

"You don't want me here, though." She didn't_ think_ he wanted her here. _He just accused me of trespassing, after all._ "Why won't you just send me home? Why all," Sarah gestured vaguely, "this?"

Jareth folded his arms across his chest while tilting his head to consider her.

"You still assume so much that I wonder if you've grown at all these past years," he paused in apparent distaste and looked away. "I hold no power in these woods. I can no more send you above than you can send yourself."

His proclamation had her very near panic.

"But it's part of your kingdom. You said so yourself!"

Indignant was better than panic. Anything was better than panic.

He flicked at imaginary dust on his shirt sleeve and shrugged in mock apology.

"And yet, that does nothing to change the fact that I cannot return you from here."

"Then, how am I supposed to get back?"

Apparently, this was the opening he had been waiting for. He approached her then, eyes glinting as he invaded her personal space. The ensuing kiss was startling in its fervor yet ended as abruptly as it started. He drew himself back far enough that Sarah was able to focus on his face.

"Go forward."

And then Sarah was alone, understanding no more than she had trudging along in the snow five minutes previous. With no other obvious alternative, she trudged along, again. Eventually, though, the winds quieted, the cold was not so very bitter, and on the horizon there lived the shadow of a destination.

Yes, Jareth left her stranded in the middle of nowhere with no direction and meager provisions. She did have to grudgingly admit that the cane he left and the more adequate winter-wear were points in his favor. Miniscule points, maybe, but points nonetheless.

Not that she would need a heavy coat for long, if the drip, drip, drip of melting snow was any indication.

* * *

**A/N:** This is actually finished and not the start of something more, but apparently it's confusing for some people. There is some subtlety going on here, so if you don't quite grasp what's going on, look at the summary, then read the last sentence. Remember where Sarah is? Also, remember that season after winter? _Now, think_. And remember: 'the way forward is sometimes the way back.'


End file.
